


Flickering

by ohmytheon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmytheon/pseuds/ohmytheon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Modern AU) Tywin Lannister gives his condolences to a former student and political rival, Catelyn Stark, after the unexpected death of her husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flickering

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Catelyn.”

The tone, of course, was very polite, but the words were pointed in ways that were sharper than any knife she’d ever held. She expected no less from him though; it was just how he was, how he’d always been, back when she had met him when she was a law student and he was a guest speaker, back when she’d been impressionable and his name was up-and-coming enough to excite her.

They were different people now, but not so different in the sense that they didn’t understand each other. She didn’t see him often, but when she did, the meetings were always electric, the air always filled with just enough tension to make things problematic between them. The problem was that she could handle his sharpness better than most people; and he still wasn’t quite used to that. He always seemed somewhat eager to push her over the edge, push her into snapping at him, but she never did. Her manners wouldn’t let her and that either entertained, amused, or frustrated him, maybe all of the above. Either way, they knew one another, knew how they worked, and so their dance was always the same.

Except now she was off her game.

Catelyn turned around, a light and tight smile on her face, to face her adversary, Tywin Lannister. He was wearing a slick black suit that was tailored only for him, a red tie accentuated with a golden [tie pin](http://ohmytheon.tumblr.com/post/32186661114/flickering-modern-au-catelyn-x-tywin), and a Rolex that looked like it was made of pure gold. In other words, he looked every inch of the billionaire, former lawyer, Secretary of the Treasury that he was.

Even if she felt like throwing her flute of champagne into his face, Catelyn Stark did no such thing. She was made of better things – and there were too many cameras around. If there was one thing she didn’t need, it was bad press; and there was nothing that would cause bad press like gossip. “I have had a hand in this charity’s annual [fundraising event](http://ohmytheon.tumblr.com/post/32186661114/flickering-modern-au-catelyn-x-tywin) for the past ten years. If there ever was a time when my involvement was important, I would think that now is the time.”

The truth was that she didn’t want to be here. The truth was that no one had expected her to be here; and she hated being here. The truth was that she wanted to be locked up in the safety of her bedroom; swallowed in one of Ned’s thick, grey robes; tucked away in the warmth of their bed, the covers, his scent. The truth was that it had taken everything in her to face this night, to drag herself into the shower, to do her hair and make-up, to slip into this dark blue gown that didn’t seem to fit her nearly as well as it had when she’d had it fitted for this occasion.

But she’d thrown that truth away. Ned’s family had been involved in this business for as long as she could remember. She could remember him taking her to this same event seventeen years ago as his date, back when they had first started dating in college; and he’d shyly told her that his father had come up with it. He’d wanted to reach out to the rural community. Most people, especially politicians, tended to focus on the inner city, but having come from the country, the Starks had that type of hospitality that reached to all strangers, especially ones from poor, rural towns. She had found the concept enchanting, of course. At first, she’d helped him out, but once her own political career jumpstarted, she had become much more active in the charity organization and its events.

It would have been an affront to her late husband’s memory if she hadn’t shown up to its main annual event, even if it had only been three months since Ned had unexpectedly passed away. She couldn’t hide from the prying eyes of the world just because of that, not when this charity had been Ned’s family’s pride and joy, much more so than the heavy legacy that his family’s name carried.

“Truth be told, I’m not quite sure what _you’re_ doing here,” Catelyn pointed out. Tywin was one of those politicians that stuck with the city. It was what he knew best. The city was where the money was at, after all. Growing up, Catelyn had been from the city as well, but she had learned to love the peace and quiet that the country offered compared to the hustle and bustle that her job commanded from her. “I didn’t think you liked coming to these events. What did you call them last time: ‘a pathetic excuse for the wealthy to pretend that they’re decent human beings’?”

Tywin regarded her carefully. “Well, it is one. How many of these people here do you actually think care?” he asked her. When she gave him a look, he added as an afterthought, “Besides you. We all know how much you _care_.”

“What are you doing here, Tywin?” Catelyn demanded, unable to feign niceties with him any longer. Normally, she could handle it – normally, she could take his indifference and arrogance with practiced ease – but tonight was not a normal night.

It had been three months exactly since Ned had died – and she’d handled it with the grace of a ballerina – but on the inside, she felt like she was crumbling. Her oldest son Robb was trying so desperately hard to be the man that his father was, the weight of his father’s company looming in his future; her oldest daughter Sansa was dating a complete monster; her youngest daughter Arya was acting out wildly; her son Bran was still recuperating but paralyzed from the same accident that had killed Ned; and Rickon, her little toddler, was growing more and more distant with each day. It was hard to deal with, the idea of single motherhood, but she knew that she had so many more resources than most mothers could ever dream of. That didn’t make it less daunting for her. It didn’t make coping with her grief any easier.

And it certainly didn’t make things any less lonely.

There was a strangely soft look about Tywin’s face as he looked her in the eyes unblinkingly. “I came to see how you were.”

Before she could stop herself, Catelyn laughed mirthlessly. “You came to see how I was doing? Tywin, even for you, that is _rich_.”

“You’re my biggest rival, one of my fiercest competitors,” Tywin told her, “but to admit that requires a certain amount of respect and admiration. And I would be lying to say that admiration doesn’t breed interest or concern.”

Catelyn looked at him suspiciously. She had never known Tywin to be concerned about people. Well, he was, but it was a type of concern that didn’t bring any warm feelings. He was damn good at his job, excellent really, which was why he’d managed to keep his position secured even after the past election when a democrat had taken office. No matter what way the House and Congress swung, Tywin Lannister stayed the same. He’d only been accused of wrongdoing once, but the accusations had been shot down almost immediately. He was ruthless that way, but that was what the economy needed in the end. It takes a certain kind of calculated coldness to deal with the money of the government; and he had just that.

“So you couldn’t call me, stop by my office, leave a message with my secretary, come to the funeral or the memorial? You decided to check up on me while at my late husband’s charity event?” Saying it out loud made it sound even more absurd than it already was. Of course he would do that though. The other things were both too personal and too impersonal at the same time. They required showing the public that he cared about her well-being on some level and also kept them at a socially appropriate distance. This way, coming to this event, he had an excuse to talk with her, but it was also much more intimate and between them. It was ingenious really.

Tywin swirled the champagne around in his flute idly, still not looking away from her. He had an intense gaze, green eyes flecked with gold, but she never looked away, not like everyone else. She had always challenged him in return, even when she’d been the law student that had sat in the front row of one of his lectures. It had been why he’d singled her out of the crowd of all the students in the lecture hall, in all the lecture halls he’d ever been in. She had defied him in her own silent way when no one else had, not since his wife’s passing.

 _We have that in common,_ she remembered dimly.

“I can still remember the first time we talked,” he said, not really answering her. She didn’t mind. “I’ve always found it easy to look into a sea of faces and spot the ones that will make something of themselves; and when I saw you, all those years ago, I knew you would  go farther than most.” She could remember the confidence he’d had during his first lecture at her college. The only reason she’d gone had been because her father admired the man and followed his career and because she, in her feminist state of mind, wanted to prove to her father that women could be just as smart as any man. She could be better than Tywin Lannister, so she wanted to see if he was really as smart as her father said. (And he had been and he was.) “You’d been reading my latest book and sought me out after the lecture.”

Catelyn recalled the day easily. “You had been talking about one of your civil cases in which you beat a hot shot lawyer that had thought he had a fire proof case to win two hundred million in damages from one of your big corporate clients.” Even now that they have both come so far from that day, she could picture the scene. It had been the end of fall; and she’d been bundled up in winter gear that Ned had bought her. Having come from the south, she hadn’t been used to the cold weather that her college town suffered through. Tywin had been well-dressed even then and looked just as intimidating as well, but not to her. “I hadn’t agreed with your methods and thought that you should have settled since your client was in the wrong.”

“I’d told that story before, so proud of myself, but no one tore me down about it like you did,” Tywin mused, sounding thoughtful and even a bit amused. At the time, he’d seemed insulted, but time changed everything, even feelings about events. “Most people congratulated me, was in awe about the whole thing, but here was this pretty, little redhead, someone that should have wanted to emulate me, telling me that _I_ was wrong – telling me that I needed to learn how to _care_ about people.” She’d been pretty animated, if she recalled correctly. Back in college, she had been so passionate about everything, getting into clubs, doing protests, the whole bit. She was never embarrassed about it. That was why she’d thrown herself into this fundraising event so whole-heartedly after Ned’s death. “You were so cold that you were visibly shaking, but you refused to leave until I at least conceded slightly in your favor.”

“I believe you bought me coffee after that,” Catelyn added, a small smile on her face.

“I did indeed. I’d felt that you deserved it after such an impassioned speech that you had to have been practicing since I had given my own.”

Gods, it felt strange to smile again and actually mean it. She’d been forced to smile for so many pictures since coming here that the muscles in her face felt strained and sore. This smile was easy, relaxed, as the memory of their first actual meeting came back to her clearly. Even though she was holding a cold glass of champagne, she could almost feel the hot cup of cheap coffee warming up her hands as it had that chilly fall day all those years ago.

Tywin suddenly put a hand on her arm, startling her out of her reverie. “I saw a fire in you that shined brighter than almost anyone I’ve ever met,” he told her in a quiet voice only meant for her. “And maybe I learned to care enough to think to check to see if that fire died out.”

Catelyn sighed, feeling more open and raw than she had in the past three months. Of course people asked her if she was alright. Her secretary shot her wary glances; the people in her office seemed to tiptoe around her; her brother teetered nervously between wanting to keep her company and leaving her to herself; and even the house staff was on edge with her. All she wanted was for people to treat her normally. All she wanted was for people to actually mean it when they asked her if she was okay. Because in all honesty, she wasn’t, not in the slightest, but she felt like people didn’t really care enough to honestly want to know that.

And it was really strange to hear something like this coming from Tywin Lannister, of all people, at a fundraiser created by a family that he had not liked under any certain terms whatsoever.

“Would you believe me if I said I was fine?” she asked him.

“No,” he replied immediately.

“Then I believe you have your answer.” Catelyn bit her lip and glanced at him quickly. “But I wouldn’t say the fire has died out. It’s merely…flickering.”

Tywin set his glass down on the tray of a passing waiter. “How about a cup of coffee at the little shop across the street? It’ll only be for a minute or two. No one will even notice you’re gone.”

Despite herself, the small smile returned to her face again almost impulsively. “I’m wearing an evening gown, for Heaven’s sake. We’re likely to be the most obvious and strangest looking people in the café.”

“You’d stand out in the crowd anyways,” Tywin told her. “You always have.”

 

 

 


End file.
